A secret
by Thecricketsarecalling
Summary: Richie reflects on a massive loss from a failed marriage two years before his return to Derry Maine. Here he looks back on how it began, ended, and old feelings that return that he once thought were gone forever.
1. The truth

**2016 The Jade Of The Orient - Derry Maine.**

After Richie was done making his wisecrack about marrying Eddie's mom, doing his best Jabba The Hutt impression, everyone broke up laughing as Eddie took the teasing in stride, rolling his eyes, before Richie cleared his throat and shrugged, taking a swig of his beer which he had honestly lost count of how many he had consumed. Strangely besides a small buzz, he didn't feel drunk. Since Mike's phone call he swore he would never get his appetite again.

Instead he had ate well, actually enjoying the company, and as always using his humor to distract him from the real terrifying reason why they were all here. He knew this group of people who very much were strangers, were actually as close as he could get to a real family. Somehow in the last two hours they had been sitting there, it seemed as if no time had passed at all. He knew besides a few minor people back home who knew what happened two years ago, nobody really knew the truth. He kept his personal life private, which in today's day of age was nearly impossible. He figured Mike might know, but not the others. Glancing at Eddie, he couldn't believe these nearly thirty year old feelings were creeping back. If he didn't tell them now, when would he? So he gulped his beer, shrugged again and sighed.

"I was married briefly in all seriousness."

"Didn't last long trash mouth?"

Bill joked smiling. Richie returned a half hearted smile, before he sighed and rolled his glass beer bottle back and forth against the surface of the table.

"Um, no...didn't get a chance to fuck it up. We were only married for like a year. She died."

An awkward hush fell over the table. Richie lifted his eyes and saw Mike's face and instantly knew he didn't know. He was tempted to look over at Eddie, but decided not to. Instead he sat back.

"Yeah Emma, she met me on one of my tours. She was a photographer who got the unlucky task in documenting my shows. One thing led to another, we hit it off...and a few months later somehow I convinced her to do the dummest thing in my life and marry me."

Bev's eyes looked heartbroken as she tilted her head to the side. "How did she pass?" Richie took a deep breath, still rolling his beer bottle.

"Um, we got married when she got pregnant. I know...the idea of me being a father, more frightening than that fucking monster we tried to take out. Well it came early and...was stillborn. It was shortly after that they found a few tumors in her uterus. After we lost the baby it changed her you know? She kinda just gave up help. She didn't even get to finish her first round of treatment when I lost her. She didn't have any family so...I got her cremated and...I still have the fucking ashes. Been nearly two years and I still can't seem to figure out what to do with her."

He looked up and saw Bev's eyes, filling with tears. Ben, Mike, and Bill were all looking down at their plates, really not knowing what to say. When he looked up, he saw Eddie's own dark brown eyes filling with tears, and he couldn't believe some welling up, filling his own. He cleared his throat, blinking the tears away as he took a swig of his beer.

"Man, do I sure know how to lift the mood up huh? Sorry guys..."

Eddie sighed, before shaking his head.

"I'm so sorry Richie...I..."

Richie shrugged, hating this unwanted attention.

"Hey, if that hadn't of happened I wouldn't have been able to move on and be happily married to your mom."

Eddie smirked, but his face didn't seem like it wanted to. He looked like the others...heartbroken for him. Mike sighed before looking across at Richie.

"That proves my theory on how Derry has taken a hold onto all of us. Richie I'm so sorry to hear...but your child being stillborn, I think it has something to do with what we did twenty-seven years ago."

Billy lifted his eyes, and raised an eyebrow.

"What?!"

Mike sighed.

"Let me ask all of you. Does anyone have any children?"

Everyone shook their heads across the table.

Mike sighed.

"Any scares?"

Bev shrugged.

"I had a miscarriage a few years back...Tom and I weren't even trying. It was only a month or so along. We've been trying ever since but so far nothing. Tom thinks...I should go and get checked, but as far as I know I'm completely healthy."

"Bill?"

"My wife and I had been trying, but took a break while we're filming our movie. We figured it would be our luck if she caught pregnant while we were in the middle of shooting."

"Anybody else? Stillbirths? Miscarriages? Scares?"

Eddie sighed.

"My wife...she's a little...oh Christ she's really overweight, we've been trying but that doesn't prove a thing."

Richie wanted to make a wisecrack but held back, remembering just minutes ago after he finished telling them about Emma the tears in Eddie's eyes. He sat back before Ben sighed rubbing is neck, telling Mike no scares on his end. Richie half listened as Mike explained what were the chances that all seven of them, believing that Stan didn't have any children had no living kids in almost thirty years. The odds were that at least one of them would. He believed Bev's miscarriage. Richie's baby being stillborn, and the rest of them never even having a scare were part of whatever hold Derry still held on them.

Richie dully heard Eddie continue to argue with Mike, while he sat forward feeling depressed. He had been trying his hardest not to think about Emma has of lately. It killed him whenever he did. He knew that entire relationship was a sham, and hadn't been fair on her end with him trying to believe he could actually make this work. The truth was, he had been living with a secret ever since he had lived in Derry nearly thirty years ago. A secret he had been ashamed of, and had honestly believed would be pushed away with Emma and the baby. Now back here, looking at Eddie, he knew the hurt he had buried away was beginning to resurface.

Sighing, he tilted his chair back and listened.


	2. A boy

**2012 Los Angeles**

Gary, Richie's current manager who was in charge of the "Offensive as Hell" tour, brought him backstage towards a young woman. She had a short pixie dark haircut, big brown eyes, and a light complexion. She wore jeans, and a black T-shirt. She held what appeared to be a very expensive digital camera, and was currently checking the memory card when Gary smiled and dragged Richie over who had just ripped a few thick lines of coke in the bathroom, and chased it all down with a shot of scotch. Nothing out of the ordinary for Richie, who had over the last ten years gained great success as a shock rock DJ as well as a standup comedian.

He was on his third comedy tour, and from what he heard his first night was completely sold out. Getting a good buzz on was all part of gearing up to face the crowds.

"Richie, this is Emma Criss. Emma, this is the great Richie Tozier."

The first thing Richie thought when he looked at Emma was that she reminded him of someone. He couldn't quite place it, but that face was definitely a face he had seen before...it was hazy, but he knew he had seen it. Smirking, he lent out his hand.

"I know this is totally going to sound like a pick-up line, but have we met before?"

Emma smiled taking his hand, her grip was dry, smooth, and actually strong despite how short and tiny she seemed.

"Can't say that we have. Pleased to meet you Mr. Tozier."

Richie rolled his eyes and made a face.

"Please, call me Richie...you're making me feel seventy. How old are you? Eighteen?"

"Twenty-three."

Richie rolled his eyes.

"Jesus twenty-three, now I really feel seventy."

Emma laughed, shaking her head before Gary motioned to her.

"Emma is going to be the tour's photographer. She gets the unlucky task of documenting your handsome mug."

"Oh Jesus..."

Richie laughed before shaking his head.

"Well I'm sorry...hopefully you have plenty of lenses, I might accidentally crack a few."

Emma smiled, before Gary patted Richie's arm as a call came in through his cell, taking it, he started walking away as crew hands passed them. For just a few seconds, it was just the two of them. A strange awkward silence fell over them as, as Richie shifted from foot to foot. He stood there staring at her, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Looking at her, he smiled again, before taking one hand out and pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

"So...how long you been doing this?"

Emma shrugged.

"Two years, went to the LA school of photography. Got lucky with an internship, and I was hired by the company that's sponsoring your tour. I followed a few theater groups before, shot for a few local magazines, nothing big."

"You from LA?"

"Washington originally. My parents died when I was pretty young, moved to California afterwards to live with a family friend. They raised me with their family, but as soon as I got a scholarship I sorta went and did my own thing, was never close with them."

"Jesus, sounds like Hell...sorry." Emma shrugged, before tilting her head staring at him.

"What about you? You from LA?"

Richie dug into his front pocket for a cigarette. Offering her one, she shook her head before he popped one in his mouth, digging for his lighter and lit it. Taking a long drag, he shook his head.

"Fuck no. I'm originally from Maine if you can believe it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, got the Hell out of there once I had the chance."

Emma smiled, locking eyes with him, before the lights dimmed, signaling that it was nearly showtime. Rolling his eyes, Richie shook his head. Just then a stage manager walked by wearing a headset and glared at Richie.

"No smoking!"

Richie nodded, taking the cigarette out and pinching it between his two fingers. Once the stage manager had walked away, Richie made a face causing Emma to laugh, before flicking it down on the cement floor.

"Say, if you aren't completely sick of me after the set...once things calm down, you wanna grab a drink at the hotel bar. Gary is a wonderful date, but he can get pretty boring."

Emma smiled, holding her camera before acting as if she was thinking it over. Finally she looked at him and smiled.

"Okay sure, I'll meet you back here."

Richie smiled back, before he shrugged.

"I'll see you later kiddo."

Turning, Richie walked away, still wondering where he had seen Emma before? She reminded him of someone...but who?

**Later..**.

Richie stood on stage, mentally noting he had another ten minutes or so and knew roughly the timing of his next several jokes. Tonight he was absolutely killing it, and the audience had been wonderful. It had been years since Richie felt this confident performing, and had really begun to enjoy himself as he held his mic, laughing himself underneath the lights. For a brief second he glanced down, and saw in the front row, kneeling down, aiming her camera was Emma.

She was pretty cute, and even under these lights, he saw her smiling, laughing herself, looking up at him. Richie smiled, staring down at her and that's when it hit him.

She reminded him of Eddie Kaspbrak.

**2016**

Richie was upstairs in the inn, shoving his few belongings into the duffle bag he had brought for his trip to derry. The entire time booking his flight, to renting his car, and even arriving in town seemed like a complete blur. With the reality of Stan having killed himself, and whatever fucking monster this was knowing where they were, thousands of frighting memories that somehow he had blocked out for all of his adult life came flooding back like some unstoppable force. Feeling his hands shake, he caught his reflection in the mirror over the dresser, and couldn't believe how awful he looked. He then thought of Mike's words, of how "IT" had somehow held control over all of them, even after all this time, and had somehow cursed them into none of them having children.

He thought of Bev confessing about her miscarriage, and how he had mentally noted the bruises on her wrists she had so carefully tried to hide with her sleeves. He had a feeling Bill, Ben, Hell...maybe all of the others had taken notice. His blood boiled thinking about it, but he pushed it away. For a moment he thought, wondering if really if all of this truly was happening...maybe Mike was right? Maybe, just maybe Emma and his baby dying had been part of all of this and completely out of anyone's control.

Those memories wanted to linger back, but he pushed them down with exhausted arms. He then glanced at his door and sighed before grabbing his bag and heading out. He walked, before stopping and seeing Eddie's room door was partly open. Sighing, he knew it wasn't a good idea to mess around, but he figured it couldn't hurt much. At least Eddie had enough sense like him to get the fuck out of here before it was too late. Still, he wanted to see if he was okay. Whatever the Hell that was back at the restaurant, he saw Eddie had been pretty shaken up, and now with the news of Stan, he really wanted to see if he was okay.

Rapping his knuckles on the door, he pushed it open.

"Yo Eddie, you ready?" Eddie stood in the room frantic, three large suitcases open on his bed as he raced around tossing pill bottles, clothing, and God knows what else inside. Richie couldn't help but smirk as he watched him.

"Jesus Eddie, thinking about moving bacK?"

Eddie shot him a look, throwing another handful of clothing and socks onto the bed. Richie laughed, shaking his head before dropping his bag onto the floor, and leaning against the wall crossing his arms.

"Please God tell me you have something fun in those pill cases? Valium?"

Eddie stopped packing for a second before reaching down, opening one of his pill cases, and took out two small blue pills. He walked over, palm open offering Richie one as he held onto the other. Richie laughed raising his eyebrows.

"Holy shit, way to go Eds!"

Eddie rolled his eyes before he tossed back his pill himself.

"Yeah well, it's been a shitty night so screw it."

"Amen to that Eds, amen to that." Eddie dry swallowed his Valium, and hoped it would take the edge off enough to stop his hands from shaking.

Eddie stared at Richie for a second, yet again those big brown eyes of him slightly filling with tears. Feeling uncomfortable, Richie gave him a look.

"Dude what?"

Eddie sighed.

"Listen, things were crazy back there but...I'm so sorry...you know about your wife...and the baby. That's messed up."

Richie suddenly hated feeling Eddie's stupid tear filled eyes on him. Sighing, he looked off to the side and shrugged. He sniffled, hating that he felt like crying himself.

"Yeah, well...life sucks then you die right man?"

Eddie shook his head.

"It's not right...I mean I don't wanna believe any of this bullshit Mike is feeding us, but whatever the cost, I'm so sorry...you would have really made an awesome father."

Richie felt a single tear escape his eye, and in a crack second he reached up roughly wiping it away, nearly knocking his glasses off. Sniffling again, he shrugged.

"Yeah...thanks..."

Before he knew it Eddie walked up, and wrapped his arms around him, burying his face against the shoulder of Richie's jacket. Standing there completely stiff, Richie at first didn't know what to do. Sure people gave sympathy after the baby and Emma's death, but nothing like this. Suddenly Richie remembered the sweet little boy who always carried his inhaler, and was the first to complain. As if no time had passed at all, Richie struggle to control himself as he deeply gave a very exhausted sigh, and put his arms around his friend. Eddie squeezed tight, rubbing his back, before he whispered something that Richie nearly almost didn't hear.

"Was it a boy or a girl?"

Richie sighed looking straight ahead, his arms still around him spoke as if he was hearing himself in a dream.

"A boy...it was a boy."


	3. Paul

Richie didn't know how long he stood there in Eddie's room, holding onto his childhood friend, smelling the clean scent of whatever shampoo he used, and the faint lingering smell of aftershave, something expensive but not too overpowering. He held onto him, feeling the warmth of him, and the comforting feeling of his arms around him.

Finally Eddie drew back, sniffling, and wiping at his eyes embarrassed. Stepping away, he stared at his friend for another second, before sighing. His large puppy dog big brown eyes broke Richie's heart, and despite twenty-seven years that had passed...it still seemed like he was still standing before his fourteen year old friend who he knew he could only admit to himself, was his first one true love. More than ever he wanted to just jump up, grab him, and press his lips against his, ignoring this frightening terror that was closing in on them. He wanted to shake Eddie and tell him he wasn't alone. That he had been living a lie simply because he was scared...and after everything they had been through, they knew fear could kill you.

Richie had pushed these feelings away because of fear, and hid behind wisecracks, jokes, and his lie of a marriage too Emma. Now at the age of forty-one, he was still living a complete lie. He knew he wouldn't grab Eddie, he knew he wouldn't kiss him, or admit his thirty year old feelings to him. No, he knew no wasn't the time. Eddie was just like him. Was hiding behind a lie of a marriage, trying to convince himself whatever feelings he had were wrong. In fact, just tonight Mike had told them about the hate crime that had just happened, causing Mike to finally make the phone calls. Even in 2016 with all of the changes and movement, he still was the same frightened kid hiding so deeply in the closet he didn't even think he could ever crawl his way out. Eddie sniffled and grabbed his inhaler, triggering it before sitting on the edge of his bed in front of his two large overpacked suitcases.

"Did you have a name picked out?"

Eddie raised an eyebrow and looked away before nervously rubbing his neck.

"Come on man, you don't wanna hear this shit..."

"Richie..."

Richie was forced to look at him, yet again both eyes locked.

"I mean it. I get if you don't wanna talk about it...but I wanna hear, please."

Richie sighed before shoving his hands back into his jacket, taking a deep breath, he felt a tightening in his chest.

"Paul...we were gonna name him Paul. We liked James, but we settled on Paul."

Eddie sadly smiled.

"Paul...Paul Tozier. I like that."

Richie smirked, before sighing and motioned to Eddie's suitcases.

"Fuck it, you ready Eds or are we still packing for both you and the Queen of England?"

Smirking, Eddie flipped Richie off, causing him to laugh. Something he honestly never believed he would do again ever.

**2012**

After the show Richie and Emma grabbed a cab and went to a cocktail lounge downtown. After a few drinks, Richie had caught a pretty good buzz, and had to actually admit himself that Emma was kinda cute. Still, he kept desperately trying to conjure up Eddie's face whenever he looked in her eyes. He knew vaguely almost in a thick haze who Eddie had been, but he couldn't quite grasp it. Sitting in a back booth, feeling relaxed and mellow, he lit a cigarette as Emma played with the straw in her drink. For the past two hours they had been talking about basically anything. Emma had a great sense of humor, and wasn't some dull young girl who was in a tough industry. No, she seemed different. Richie somehow felt safe with her, and had actually really begun to enjoy himself. Still, looking at her big brown eyes he kept thinking back to another set of eyes, smaller and softer. Eyes he remembered feeling truly safe in, eyes that he had become lost in...

"Richie?"

Emma waved her hand in front of his face and chuckled as he blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, before he sat back, stubbing out his smoke and laughed.

"Sorry, guess I spaced for a second."

Emma smirked.

"Guess I'm really that interesting." Richie made a face before reaching over and grabbing her camera.

"So, get any great shots of me being a total dickhead?"

He began to click through the memory card, and was actually impressed with how nice they came out.

"Wow, these aren't that bad...you got an eye kid, you got an eye!"

Richie spoke in his 1930's news reporter voice, making Emma laugh. Setting the camera down, he stared at her before knowing whatever this vague frustrating grasp on remembering this important person who's name kept slipping away from him, he needed to distract himself. He knew he had thought of the name earlier, but as the night worn out it seemed to have disappeared. Knocking back the rest of his drink, he sniffled and stared at her.

"Wanna head back to the hotel?"

Emma stared at him, before batting her long eyelashes.

"I don't know...this is a new gig, kinda don't wanna mess it up."

Richie chuckled.

"Trust me sweetheart you won't..."

He signaled for the check, before smirking across at her. In total Richie had slept with only two other women. One in college, which he was half drunk for and barley remembered any details. The other was a Joyce, a waitress at one of the clubs he used to do standup for. The relationship didn't last more than a few months, but on the outside everyone believed Richie was some great ladies man cracking jokes, and always playing it cool. The truth was, he was simply putting up a front. A front that woman actually attracted him. That he could convince himself. Still, after all these years he just couldn't seem to make the plunge. He knew these were different times, but he just couldn't face it. The only time he felt real pleasure was locked away in his apartment with his laptop. On that he could escape and actually feel something without any judgment. He figured it might be the drinks, but Emma was cute, and maybe if he tried sleeping with her and he could actually get it up maybe...just maybe he wouldn't have to face the terrifying truth.

Richie paid the bill, and Emma and him walked out, his arm around her thin shoulders. He hailed a cab, and by the time they sat in the backseat, Richie forced himself to start kissing her. Emma responded well, running her smooth hands up and down his sides, both totally ignoring the driver up front, and Richie plunged his tongue into her mouth and moaned. He began to pretend that Emma was whoever this person from his past was. The person that had awoken old feeling he had been trying so badly to lock away. Keeping his eyes closed behind his glasses, he continued moaning and kissing her not realizing that he was actually pretending that this sweet young woman was actually his first love.


	4. Passion

_**Author's note - Hey guys! Should I continue? Thanks for all the love!**_

**2012**

Richie knew exactly what to do once they came back to his room at the hotel. Most of it had been a blur. They decided to skip out on the hotel bar and go to a lounge a few blocks away. Those few hours flew by, and he remembered them making out like a couple of kids in the backseat of the taxi bringing them back. He remembered paying, nearly tripping on the curb when they climbed out, and the soft laughter of Emma as she clung onto him as they went through the lobby, and took the elevator up to his floor. Emma was eager, and her hands were roaming everywhere. She had her bag over her shoulder that contained her camera, and she leaned in close to him, moving her hips against him, as her hands roamed, running up and down over his shirt, lifting it up, rubbing his chest and stomach, before cupping his crotch.

He knew he wasn't hard yet, and she was going to take noice soon. Focusing on breathing, and thinking focused thoughts, he was able to get a half stiff one, as he smirked, as continued kissing Emma who tasted like peach vodka. Once they were in his room, Richie having dropped his room card twice before opening it, he laughed as the two stumbled over each other's feet and collapsed onto the king sized bed. Richie knew he was going to have sex with this sweet, interesting, and smart young woman. This would be the third time he was having sex, his third time trying to convince himself that this could actually work. He knew if he was ever going to go through this, he was going to need to do something terrible. Taking his glasses, he put them on the nightstand, and instantly everything became a thick blur of colors. He could vaguely make Emma out.

Her short dark hair, her pale face, her tiny figure, but nothing else. Just blurred hazy shapes and colors. He knew he needed to pretend this was whoever this person was that Emma looked so much like. He knew he has remembered the name earlier, some childhood friend, Ethan? Ernie? No, he had it just within reach but couldn't grasp it. He just remembered vague small little details, everything else like his vision was a blur. Whoever this person was, it brought an old dormant ache within him that he needed to treat. He breathed heavy, sitting on the edge of the bed, as Emma began to shrug off his jacket, and lift up his T-shirt. He stared at the blurred image of her, before feeling a bulge form in his jeans. Emma ran her hands over his thighs, before working his belt off, and unzipping his fly. His penis sprang out, fully erect as Emma cocked her head, and wrapped her soft hand around it. Richie groaned, tilting his head back. Emma was talking in a low sensual manner, but he wasn't paying any attention. Instead he took deep breaths, feeling her hand slowly move up and down, before he felt the warm wet sensation of her putting him inside her mouth. Breathing heavy, he gripped the sheets, before cracking his eyes open and staring down. He saw her head bobbing up and down. He looked at the blurred image, and imagined it was a man he was with. That it was whoever he do badly wanted to remember. Somebody from his past, somebody important. He breathed evenly, feeling her tongue work wonders, before he tilted his head back and groaned.

**Later...**

"Richie...oh Richie!"

Emma cried, tossing her head from side to side beneath him. Richie laid naked, between her two spread legs silently thrusting into her at a frightening pace. The two had been having sex for the last two hours, a complete marathon of the two of them, climaxing, crying out, and doing a good amount of blow Richie had hidden in his suitcase. The entire time Richie kept his glasses off. Never before had he rose to the occasion so well. He knew the trick was keeping his glasses off and simply pretending. Still, Emma seemed satisfied, clutching onto him, digging her nails into him, begging him not to stop. The last time both had sex siting up in one of the chairs, Emma pulling on his hair, as he clutched onto her bucking his hips upward. Now it was nearly dawn, the light through the windows overlooking the city had changed, and the buzz from the drugs and booze were beginning to fade. Richie had worked up a good sweat, his hair hanging in his eyes as he laid between her legs, his ass rising and falling as he felt the tingling begin to build. He was close. He held her down, looking off to the side, hearing the bed creak, and her legs wrap around him tightly. He sweated, and remembered again... A set of beautiful brown eyes smiling back at him. A promise? Somebody who he was pretending was with him right now instead of Emma...

That's when he cried out, snapping his eyes closed.

"Ah shit!" He climaxed roughly, feeling warmth before collapsing completely on top of her. After a few minutes, finally Richie lifted his head, and stared down at the blurry face. "You okay?" He couldn't fell by Emma's facial expression, even this close, but she pulled him down, gently kissing his lips.

"That was wonderful..."

Richie smirked, leaning down kissing her bare shoulder blade, feeling partly guilty that this entire night he had pretended Emma had been somebody else. Still, the sex had been great, and he felt exhaustion begin to set in. Carefully, he pulled out of her, using a towel from the bathroom to wipe himself from making too much more of a mess for the poor maids that had to clean his sheets. He laid back, before he felt Emma snuggle in close to him, gently petting his chest hair, and kissing his bare skin, before breathing evenly and falling asleep. Richie smiled, temped to reach for his glasses before thinking better of it.

Laying there, Richie laid awake for a while, having absolutely no idea he had just gotten Emma pregnant.

**2016 Derry townhouse**

Mike wanted all of them to get a few hours of rest before taking off to The Barrens.

Not wanting to split up, Mike crashed in Bill's room. Ben crashed with Eddie, and Richie found himself laying beside Bev. Nobody even bothered to change, but knew going into this wired and exhausted wasn't a good idea. Mike wanted them up at dawn, and alarms had been set as they tried to catch a few hours of rest. To Richie that seemed impossible. Still, the pill Eddie had given him seemed to have been kicking in, and he laid there listening to Bev's soft breathing, staring up at the ceiling fully clothed. He glanced at the door, wishing he was in Eddie's room instead of Ben. Sighing, he continued staring up, wondering if they could in fact defeat whatever this was? If maybe, just maybe by some magical chance they could with Stan dead...maybe he could find the courage and stop being so afraid. Tonight he had experienced so many old feelings he could have sworn he had put to rest.

Seeing Eddie's face, he remembered the night his son was conceived...he had pretended without even knowing it that he had been making love to Eddie.


	5. Before dawn

**Derry townhouse 2016**

Richie stared up at the ceiling. The alarm was set to go off in another forty minutes, and Richie hadn't truly slept a wink. Laying in the queen sized bed, Richie had Bev snuggled up against him, her head laying on his chest. Richie loved Bev like a sister, and actually felt better with Mike's idea of everyone doubling up and try to catch a few hours of sleep before dawn. Mike and Bill were together, Eddie and Ben and finally Bev and him. He loved Bev, and had missed her. He had cracked a few jokes promising to try and not to get any hard-ons while they snuggled. Rolling her eyes, Bev slipped off her boots, before climbing into bed beside him. "Beep beep Richie." Richie laughed as she playfully swatted him with a pillow. Now just a few hours later, he saw she had finally slipped off to sleep. Her breathing was even, but he could tell from the frantic movement from beneath her closed eyelids, she was dreaming. He thought back to what she had said earlier down in the bar. That due to being caught in the deadlights nearly thirty years ago, she had suffered from horrible vivid violent nightmares. She had seen Stan died...in fact she had seen all of them die. He sensed Bev knew much more than she was letting on, and judging from the terrible bruises and marks on her arms, and the fact she wasn't wearing a wedding band, yet had a faint tan line on her finger. He sensed her wonderful husband Tom wasn't exactly a sweetheart.

This made his blood boil, but he knew it wasn't any of his business, nor the time. Still, after hearing about her miscarriage, and the fact her "wonderful" husband wanted her to get checked out, feeling she was responsible...not him. He couldn't believe a smart beautiful woman like Bev could fall into a trapped marriage like this. Still, judging from the lack of her ring, and the way she was looking at Bill at the restaurant maybe she had made a clean break for it. He was curious about Eddie's wife Maya. Earlier he had produced a photo of them on his phone and Richie hated to admit it, but he felt the small tingling of jealously begin to well up. She reminded him so much of Eddie's mother it wasn't even funny. He could sense Eddie was embarrassed, blushing slightly, looking on edge, waiting for Richie to crack some joke. Instead, Richie didn't say a word. He kept reminding himself of Eddie's tears when he talked about Emma and the baby. Still, as he laid awake in Bev's bed in the early hours of the morning, watching the darkness through the lace curtains start to shift and change to a lighter navy blue. He knew the alarms would be going off soon, and he guessed most of them either were too wired and scared to sleep like himself, or passed out from pure exhaustion, and would probably wake up feeling as if they were punched awake. Sighing, he stared up at the ceiling, before he gently put his arm around Bev and rubbed her back. She sighed in her sleep, still laying against him, breathing evenly.

Richie could faintly smell her shampoo, some fresh clean soap scent that reminded him of Emma. He still could remember the sweet scent of pears. It was the soap and perfume she used. Never overpowering, but sweet, and something he constantly associated with her. In fact, he remembered just a few days following her funeral, how he was boxing up, and sorting through her things, honestly moving in a daze, really not knowing what to do with her belongings. He remembered in the end settling on keeping one single box that he kept at the bottom of his bedroom closet. Everything else was either donated, or thrown out. inside were a few of her sweaters, scarfs, and jewelry he loved seeing her wear. Her camera, an album of her photographs, an old faded T-shirt she always wore to bed, sunglasses, her license, and the little outfit she had knitted planning on having the baby wear when they were going to bring him home from the hospital. He knew it was silly to keep those things, but he just couldn't bring himself to part with them. They remained sealed up in the box, shoved behind some stuff. The last thing he kept was a small bottle of her perfume. He remembered holding it, spraying his wrist and smelling it, before hanging his head and weeping softly. Something he had refused to do in public.

He tossed in the perfume bottle, along with her engagement and wedding rings, before slipping his own band off and tossing it inside, knowing the entire marriage and relationship had been a complete joke. It wasn't fair he had tried to convince himself that this was going to work. That he truly believed it could change things and how he really felt. He had loved Emma, and cared for her deeply. Still, after the baby...he saw something sweet and innocent in her die with their son. He watched how within months her get sicker and weaker, before finally she simply slipped away. He really didn't believe in much, but laying here he figured if such terrible things like Pennywise existed, maybe it meant there was an opposite. Maybe there was a God...or afterlife? Did Emma know he secret now? That he had only married her and agreed on continuing this relationship trying to convince himself he was straight? He wondered constantly if they still would have been together had the baby lived and she hadn't go gotten sick? Was he being punished for lying?

Deep down inside he figured he had been responsible for her death. He had gotten her pregnant, and the baby died...afterwards it was discovered she had cancer, and by the end of the year he had lost his unborn son and wife. His sweet innocent wife and really thought he loved her? Didn't he? He wasn't sure. Only that he had tossed their wedding bands and few belongings away, taping it up, and shoving it to the back of his closet. He remembered the heartbreaking task in taking apart the nursery she had spent so much time decorating and painting just a week after Paul had come early, being stillborn. He remembered her walking in, dark circles around her bloodshot puffy eyes, face clean of makeup, hair drawn back with a band, crossing her arms watching him as he boxed everything up planning on donating everything, and change the room back to his spare office so the constant reminder wouldn't be right in their face. He had froze, looking at her, readjusting his glasses, ready to say something, when she simply sighed, walked in and started helping him pack things up. He thought she might break down and cry, instead she worked silently beside him. By the end of the night the crib had been taken down, everything was boxed up, and the two shared a beer sitting side by side on the floor tried, and down right in a daze from the last few days. Richie remembered her leaning against him, resting her head on his shoulder, before he kissed the side of her head, putting his arm around her and squeezing tight. Less than five months later...she would be gone. Feeling tears fill his eyes, he sniffled, and squeezed Bev as he laid back wishing more than ever it was Eddie laying in here with him instead.

**Before...**

Richie woke, feeling slightly hungover, as he squinted from the bright sunlight shinning through the windows of his apartment. Yawning, he stretched, before grabbing his eyeglasses off his nightstand, and slipped them on, before glancing down at his phone and saw it was still early. His head slightly throbbed, and his throat felt dry. Looking across, he saw Emma re-dressed, and lacing up her boots on the edge of the bed. In the morning light, he saw how pretty she really was. Her hair was short and choppy, and she was back in her clothes from last night. Smiling, he nudged her with his foot. Looking over, she softly smiled.

"Hey. Sorry to wake you, I'm gonna head out..."

Richie blinked again, rubbing his stubble covered face, before looking at her. Last night for the most part was a blur, but he did remember the sex was actually good, and he had been able to stay hard, and finish. Yet again he felt that mental brick wall he had fooled, and figured if he had been able to have sex with a young pretty woman, maybe he was bi? He knew that was complete horseshit, but he helped him convince himself even more. Smiling, he sat up, feeling his head fully ache.

"Don't go...stay."

Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Listen Richie, last night was fun but...I gotta take this gig serious. I don't want things to get weird."

"Weird? Don't repeat this but I'm not exactly a stud. That was the first time I had sex in...well...a long enough that I'm too embarrassed to admit. I'm actually a pretty big loser, and...well last night was a lot of fun. You wanna grab breakfast? We can get bloody Marys and help with this horrible hangover I feel all ready creeping up on me."

Emma laughed, a sweet pure sound before she cocked her head staring at him.

"Seriously?"

Richie smiled. "Yeah...stay." He reached out, taking her hand and squeezing it. Looking as if she was thinking about it, she made a face before shrugging.

"Okay...fine."

Richie smiled, before grabbing her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulling her back towards him. Emma squealed, laughing as she playfully fought him, as he pulled her back and nuzzled her neck. Kissing her, he kept thinking to himself this was normal and natural. He needed a girlfriend for his image, and Emma seemed really cool. She laid beside him, before she started kissing him, and slowly her hands snaked down to his boxers, finding his limp penis, and starting to wrap around the shat, and starting to slowly move up and down. Stunned at how fast she was moving, he laid back feeling absolutely nothing, but knew he needed to keep up the act. He laughed nervously, staring up, focusing as he took deep breaths, thinking of that vague memory of somebody that Emma reminded him of... He felt himself start to get hard, before she lifted up the blanket and disappeared beneath. He stiffened, gasping when he felt what she was doing with her mouth. Laughing, he took a deep breath, ready to crack a joke, before he grabbed onto the sheets and tried to focus.

After Emma gave him a blow job, the two took a shower together. Richie was able to get a good look of Emma's thin naked body, as the two had sex again beneath the pouring hot water coming from the shower head. It took a little bit of work to get himself hard, but he had his glasses off, and blindly fumbled in the crammed shower, feeling her hands all over him as she kissed his chest, and wrapped her arms around him. He entered her, as he lifted her up under her ass, and pressed her against the wall of the shower. He had to focus on breathing to stay hard, but once he did, he heard her cry out, as he leaned down, shutting his eyes as he started to push forward, before climaxing instantly. Embarrassed, he hung his head down, hair dripping wet.

"Jesus sorry..."

Emma kissed the side of his face, before she eased herself down, and took his bottle of shampoo, and washed his hair, then hers. Once they finished showering, the water turning chilly, they toweled off, changed, and Richie couldn't believe how comfortable he was with her. He used his humor as usual to keep things casual. They walked downtown hand in hand to a breakfast joint, and ended up ordering bloody Marys, and full breakfast plates. They spent a few hours there, talking about basically anything, laughing, and actually enjoying each other's company. They made plans to meet up after Richie's show later on that night, and before Emma grabbed an Uber to head home for a bit, she loosely wrapped her arms around him, standing on her tiptoes and softly kissed him.

"Talk to you later?" Richie grinned.

"Sounds good kiddo."

Watching her climb into the car, he waved, before shoving his hands in his pockets. He figured this wasn't just a one night stand. He liked her a lot, and figured this would be a nice distraction. Emma was easy going, and yet again, he knew reminded him of some guy he knew he had once been attracted to...if only he could remember. The two started casually seeing each other, and by the end of the next month as he started doing his tour, both were stunned by the news that Emma was pregnant.

Sadly a ticking clock had all ready begun for the two of them...a clock that was slowly running out of time towards a devastating end.


	6. Blue

**Dallas Texas 2012 **

It was officially three months since Richie and Emma became an "item". They hadn't exactly put a name to whatever this was, but Richie knew she wasn't sleeping with anyone else, and neither was he. He really enjoyed Emma's company. She was interesting, witty, and really didn't take any of his shit. She was sassy, and a real spitfire. Still, he found her oddly calmly, and now had a routine whenever he was about to go out on stage. Emma would be waiting in the side wings, and just as the stage manager gave him the signal that he would be going on in less than a minute. He would usually take a shot of whatever was handy, and then press his forehead against hers. She would take his hands, and gently squeeze them. Together the two would stand there for thirty or so seconds, ignoring all the stage hands and distractions around them.

Richie would close his eyes, and listen to her breathing, before he felt himself instantly relax. He would smell her sweet perfume, and just like that he would feel calm enough to go on. Emma would take her place in the audience with her camera and shoot him as he did his routine. Night after night with sold out shows, and appearances on talk shows. He liked life on the road, and having Emma by his side somehow shifted things into focus. He knew people were calling her his "girlfriend" he figured he was way too fucking old for labels like that. Still whenever people asked about her, he would shrug and say he liked her. Richie was overall a pretty private person, but actually felt happy and content for the first time in what seemed like forever now that he had Emma. They would usually grab dinner and drinks before heading back to whatever hotel they were staying at. Richie would throw back a few drinks, and a few pills while Emma sat on her laptop editing whatever shots she took earlier that night. They would then shower, and usually have sex. Some nights he would shave, with her sitting on the counter reading entertainment articles from her phone to him. Some nights they would curl up, A.C cranking, as they watched TV before falling asleep. Richie continued relying on his little tricks to keep himself able to keep up with her sexually. He would gobble pills, keep his glasses off, and pretend...it was a dirty little secret but he loved pretending.

It's what kept him interested, and hard for Emma. He couldn't bring himself to go down on her, but she didn't seem to care. She knew some nights were better than others. She would do whatever was possible to make him feel good. She was always holding his hand, rubbing his shoulders, kissing his roughly shaven face. He loved fooling around in the shower, running his hands through her short hair, and had even talked her into him taking her from behind. This was when he felt he would really feel free. Some nights he felt awful. Emma was sweet, smart, and caring. She often looked after him, petting his arms as he feel asleep half drunk against her. Still, he knew nobody could know how he really felt. He had to bury these feelings, and try and make this work with her. Everyone liked them together and were rooting for them. He figured it might last a few months, maybe until the end of the tour. At least then people would suspect anything for a while. Richie the bachelor had a long last relationship for awhile, and that was that.

At least he hoped so...

Durning the day they would usually explore whatever town they were in before sound check. They would walk hand in hand, visiting restaurants and shops, sometimes if there was a lake or beach hang out there having beers and laughing. She never pushed, never judged. They would talk music, movies, politics, and always make each other smile. She felt like a best friend almost...as if he had known her for years. Tonight he had really killed it at his set. The crowd was amazing, and afterwards they got drinks with the crew. Now a few hours later, they were back at the hotel. Richie was on top of her, laying between her legs as they curled around his waist, squeezing tight as he found a steady rhythm and thrusted away into her, working up a good sweat. Glasses off, and bangs hanging in his face, he felt himself coming close. That's when Emma made a noise and lightly pushed up against his chest.

"Richie, stop."

Richie froze mid thrust, before looking down at her. His vision was so bad, even laying this close he couldn't see her. She was just a blur of color.

"Huh?"

She pushed him up harder this time.

"Get off me!"

"Am I hurting you?"

He asked, honestly concerned since just a few seconds ago she was crying out in a total full fledge orgasm. Instead, he felt her struggle beneath him, before he pulled out and rolled off her. Feeling his balls tingle, he climaxed against the sheets without any warning, before snapping his eyes shut. Grabbing his glasses, he slipped them on and turned watching Emma throw the sheets back, completely naked as she ran to the bathroom, grabbing one of his T-shirts that were laying over a chair. Seconds later he heard the sounds of her violently throwing up. Raising an eyebrow, he threw the sheets back himself, slipped out of bed, and grabbed his boxers. Pulling them on, he ran a hand through his thick hair, before walking to the bathroom.

"Em? You okay?"

He pushed the door open to find Emma now wearing one of his baggy T-shirts that went down to her knees. She was kneeling and throwing up into the toilet, gagging as her back arched. Worried, Richie hurried over, before squatting down before her. Rubbing her back, he waited until finally she threw up for the last time and spit. Flushing for her, he watched as she sat back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before sighing. She looked pale with circles around her eyes. She looked exhausted. Making a face, she sighed loudly and shook her head.

"Gross, sorry."

Richie sighed, reaching out and gently cupping the side of her face. It was sweetly and clamly. He didn't like how she looked, almost as if she was recovering from the flu. He stared at her, worried.

"Guess we must have overdone it with those beers huh?"

Emma didn't look so sure, instead she gave a small humorless laugh, nodded in agreement, before she slowly got herself off the floor when he offered her his hand. She brushed her teeth, spit in the sink, and grabbed a water bottle before going into the other room. He watched as she put her bra on underneath her shirt, and slipped on a pair of jeans. She muttered some excuse that she was just gonna run to the drug store down the street for something to settle her stomach. She kissed his cheek, and left before he could ask if she wanted him to go with her. Alone, Richie went into his suitcase, grabbed his small glass vial, and tapped out a few messy lines of coke. He snorted them, feeling happily buzzed, before he went over his setlist. He changed into sweats and a T-shirt, and drummed his fingers against his legs as he scanned the jokes and rough outline of what the set would look like. He was in the middle of answering emails, when Emma came back with a plastic bag from the drug store. He was sitting in bed, the TV on mute, and had the setlist and phone laying on his lap. Looking up, readjusting his glasses, he smirked.

"Hey, I was about to set out the search party. You okay babe?"

Emma nervously smirked, nodding before heading straight to the bathroom. He heard the lock click and thought nothing of it. He returned to his phone, answering emails, before ten or so minutes passed. Finally the door swung open and a very pale looking Emma stepped out. She was holding two things, that appeared to be plastic strips or pens. It took Richie a second, before he finally saw what she was holding. Two pregnancy tests. Both blue, both positive. Richie's eyes widened as he stared at them, and then to her bloodshot scared eyes.

"Oh shit..."

He muttered.

**Derry townhouse 2016**

They woke early, and all met down in the lobby. Mike was waiting, and everyone looked the complete opposite of unrested. In fact, they looked like absolute Hell. Richie eyed Eddie, wearing his hoodie, big brown eyes nervous as he shifted from one foot to the other. He didn't look any different than when he did when he was thirteen. For a brief second he wondered what Eddie was like having sex with his cow of a wife. He knew this was cruel, but how could a woman that large have sex with a guy so small? He mentally could see that there was no way she could ever be on top. Instead he conjured up the image of Eddie nude, laying on top of that woman. Even under his t-shirts and hoodie he could tell there was some muscle beneath his baggy clothes. He could feel himself getting hard, but instantly pushed those thoughts away.

now wasn't the time to get a stiff one standing around ready to head out to God knows where with his childhood friends. Just a half an hour ago Bev and him woke up. Bev didn't look rested, instead she looked puffy faced, and slightly wired. She kissed his scruffy cheek, thanking him for staying with her and being a gentlemen. He smirked, cracked a joke telling her it was all a ploy to sweep her off her feet and marry her down in the sewer. they laughed, grabbed their jackets, and headed down the stairs to meet up with everyone. The second he laid eyes on Eddie waiting downstairs, he felt his heart hammer in his chest. He honestly would do anything to walk over to him right now, wrap his arms around Eddie's small body and hold him as tight as he could. Mike asked if they were ready and so they started out, on foot like they were children, all filing out one after another. As the cool air hit Richie's face, hands shoved deeply in his pockets, he walked staring at Eddie and felt his heart ache. Maybe if they somehow survived this entire thing, maybe just maybe he would have the balls to risk it all and let Eddie know how he felt. He knew that was impossible, and the chances of them actually surviving whatever this wasn't looking good for any of them.

Still, maybe just maybe if he did make it out alive, and stuck around long enough to see whatever Mike wanted from them, maybe before skipping town he would risk it and talk to Eddie. What's the worst he could do? Laugh in his face? Push him away? Scream at him the slurs he avoided ever since he was a preteen? He knew he would be putting everything on the line, but he honestly didn't care. Thinking, had things gone differently, had the baby not been stillborn...he would have a four year old son. Would he be risking all of this if he had a child back home waiting for him? He often wondered what Paul would have been like? Would he still be with Emma? He really didn't think so. Still, he wished so badly things had turned out differently. He wished the baby had survived, and he would have gotten the chance to see if he wouldn't be a complete screw up being a father. As he walked through downtown, the sun just starting to come up, shifting the shadows and lights, he sighed. He hadn't thought this much of his deceased son in years. Why? Why were these terrible memories resurfacing?

He just couldn't understand...at least until now.


	7. I do

**Present **

Richie couldn't believe how stupid everyone was being about this whole "splitting up" idea. Instead of arguing, they all headed back towards town, and began to walk in different directions right before reaching the same streets they rode bikes on 27 years ago. Richie first saw Bev be the first to go on her own towards the direction of her old apartment she lived in with that crazy drunk bastard of a father she had. Next was Ben, headed West, up towards the schools, hands in his pockets, looking down as he walked away. Next was Bill, who seemed anxious, and muttered something he half stuttered before walking down another street. Mike spotted the library and smirked.

"I'll meet you guys tonight, good luck."

Richie watched him walk away, before he shoved his own hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Glancing over, that same fluttering feeling overcame him as he stared at Eddie who looked like a complete nervous wreck. A thousand memories, feelings, and thoughts settled over him like a cold bucket of ice water. To him, Eddie was the same thirteen year old nervous boy who was the beginning of all of those feelings starting to come to surface.

"This is so fucking stupid...I gotta run to the pharmacy and pick something up, after that I'm headed back to the inn. This is insane."

Richie smirked, seeing him get so worked up.

"Ah the pharmacy, your home away from home. Yeah, I'm just gonna walk downtown and probably head back myself."

Eddie nodded, before reaching out and patting his arm.

"Be careful man."

Before Richie could say another word, Eddie turned and began walking down the sidewalk. Richie watched him, tempted to call after him, but in typical fashion lost his nerve. He sighed, shaking his head before walking down the street. That's when he happened upon the old theater...

**Before...**

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

The judge said causing Richie to grin and turn towards Emma. She stood before him, heavily pregnant, wearing a short lace white dress, which showed her perfectly round full stomach beneath which actually looked down right adorable on such a small frame of Emma's thin body. She still had a few months to go, but she seemed weighed down, and carrying low. Just a month ago they officially learned that they were having a little boy. At first the actual reality of Emma being pregnant had been one of the biggest shockers to ever happen in Richie's life, which said a lot. Still, once both calmed down, Richie realized how scared Emma actually was, and decided to take a chance. The soul crushing loneliness wasn't as bad when Emma was around. She somehow kept his anxiety down, was encouraging, and really sweet. Richie in the end had convinced Emma that maybe this was a sign that they should take things to the next level. Now here he was, wearing a sports jacket beneath one of his button up Hawaii shirts, a loosened tie, standing with Emma pregnant with his child, at town hall with two of their mutual friends standing behind them as witnesses.

Richie Tozier was actually getting married and starting a family.

Looking at Emma's pretty face, he lightly chuckled, leaning in close to her.

"Too late to turn back now, you're all mine sweetheart."

He said in his 1940's news reporter voice. Emma staring up at him rolled her eyes, before shaking her head as she stood on her tiptoes as Richie laughed, taking hold gently of her face with both hands, and deeply kissing her. Instantly their friends went wild before the kiss broke, and Richie turned with Emma, his arm now snaked around her laughing, actually for once feeling happy, and having absolutely no idea that this happiness wouldn't last long.

**Later that night...**

Emma wore shorts and one of Richie's old baggy T-shirts, standing barefoot in the extra room in their shared apartment, looking in at the nursery. The two had been slowly working on it for the last two months and it was almost completely finished. A small tired smile was spread across her face as she leaned against the doorway, staring at the crib, and the mobil of wooden turtles hanging above it. Just then Richie came up behind her, holding two champagne glasses, one filled with champagne, the other with just plain orange juice. Standing behind her, looking in, he gently nuzzled the side of her head. Smiling, Emma turned as Richie handed her the orange juice.

"Thanks..." Richie smiled, kissing her ear before clinging his glass with hers.

"Here's to us Mrs. Tozier."

Emma laughed.

"Here's to us Mr. Tozier."

Both drank, when Richie smiled, using his free hand to slide across the curve of her stomach, as he laughed and waited. A few seconds passed, before Richie lifted an eyebrow and laughed shaking his head looking down at her. Emma glanced up over her shoulder.

"What's up?"

Richie smirked again, before he motioned with his head towards her glass.

"Drink the rest."

Emma made a face smiling.

"Trying to get me drunk off orange juice mister?"

Richie eyed her stomach for a second before smiling and nodding to her.

"Drink the rest."

Emma shrugged, before tipping back the rest of her drink. Richie's hand remained firm against the swell of her stomach as he waited. After a minute, Emma laughed before she looked back up over her shoulder.

"Everything okay?"

Richie stared down at her stomach, the smile suddenly fading as he nervously chuckled. Emma looked at him again.

"What's wrong?"

Richie's eyes still stayed on her stomach.

"Um...nothing, just...you know whenever you drink something fast he always starts kicking like crazy..."

Emma turned, sliding one hand up behind Richie's ear, stroking his hair.

"He's sleeping...come on, let's enjoy our wedding night."

Smiling, she leaned up and kissed Richie's cheek, before walking past him into the direction of their bedroom. Richie stayed in the doorway to the nursery, still holding his drink, and staring in at the darkened room, including the crib. In the back of his mind, a voice whispered that something was wrong. Instead of listening, he stared in at his unborn son's room a second longer, before reaching and closing the door.


End file.
